Play Pretend
by Rycitia
Summary: A little game of pretence every night. And then you run away. KxF


**Play pretend**

There was a word, and the world arose.

I tumbled over the stairs, anxious to get to the yard first. Crashing against the gate, I hastily fiddeled with the lock, tore it open, took off.

_He touched his cheek, softly. Sleeping, he looked so friendly. Not grumpy at all, merely at ease and, for once, content._

The grass under my feet tickled, not stopping my rush towards the dark dephts of the forest. The damp shadows enclosing me, I slowed my pace. But still, quickly, to the little river that rested in the heart of the wood.

_At times like these, he could muster him, take him in, without having to endure the harsh words and angry glares. At times like these, he could pretend that the other lay next to him because of free will, that he was fast asleep after some gentle love making or cuddling. Pretence also makes happy._

There, I stopped, gasping and breathing heavily, my lungs aching and my legs burning. I slumped down on the small river bank, trying to catch my breath and listening. No sounds, no steps, no one was here. He did not come after me.

_Sometimes, when the nights would be moonless and dark, he would dare to touch him, stroke his face or linger on his hair, pretending the other liking it, loosing himself in his little mind games of lies. Sometimes, when he was especially darin,g he would lower his head and imagine what it would be like, if he kissed the other, if the other kissed him._

It took time to catch my breath. I cast glances towards the pathway I had come from, torn between hoping he would come and hoping he wouldn't come.  
If I stayed here long enough, they would have to look for me, I figured. I did not like that thought.

_He would sometimes wisper, foolish words of affection and tenderness, knowing very well that the other was soundly asleep. But if the other lay still, not uttering a word of protest, he could easil imagine that those words were aprecciated, soon to be returned._

The early morning sun sent her first rays through the dark wood, creating spirals and patterns on the earth next to me. She shone down on everyone, every day, I hadn't yet seen a world without a sun. She seemed to be the only constant figure in this swirl of worlds, dimensions, lifes, the one that arose calmy every day and cast her warm light on everyone, regardless of deed and thought.

_When the other stirred in his sleep, he weaved that into his little story of love, interpreting it as a sign of understanding, perhaps, or of acceptance. He would pat his cheek, sure of the deep sleep the other enjoyed, and perhaps cry a little, because he never was a very good storyteller._

I lay flat down, streching on the damp torf and letting the cool tears finally escape my eyes. No one was here, after all. I could turn the gentle wind into a caring hand, wiping away my tears, but that only served to feed my desparation and realisation on how accustomed I had become to pretending.

_Nobody was watching, nobody was awake. And a little present, all for his own, it wouldn't hurt anybody. He just wanted a small memory, something to carry in his heart during the daytime, when pretending was impossible. It was not too much to ask for, was it? Just one little, simple thing. He closed his mouth over the others' lips._

I cried, I wept, I screamed and howled. Nobody was there to hear me, after all. Nobody had come after me. I wondered, I knew I was fragile. But I didn't know one word could send me running and hiding.  
What am I to do now? I cannot go back to the house, he will be there, he will ask, and he will demand answers.

_His lips trembled, nothing could ever compare to this. He forgot, that the other was asleep, that the other didn't want this, that the other hated him. He kissed him, his small little present for himself._

I clutched the ground, letting the innocent grass feel my lack of self-control. I would not go back, I would rather hide in this forest forever than confront him and his questions.

_He felt a little stirr, the shadow of a movement. It was enough to make him jump. Then he heard the sleep-drunken voice.  
__"Fye?"_

"Fye?"

_He looked up._

I looked up.

_He had been caught._

I had been found.

* * *

Thank you for reading.


End file.
